When I was a child
And it was hot
I used to turn on the hose
Filling up buckets
And filling up pots
Washing the verandah down
Turning on the tap
And letting all that water
As I grew older
The water seemed to become scarce
Not the kind that runs out of tap
But the sort that comes from up there 👆
So much time waiting
Watching for signs
Ant nests built taller
In anticipation of flooding water
Well that’s what the adults said
And so we waited with bated breath
Guts drawing tighter
With each storm gone round
Sometimes it felt like
We had never drawn a good solid breath in our entire lives
And the pressure became a strap
Tugged at and hitched higher
all that breathing out
With nothing coming in
And whirl winds
When it begins
It is with wonder
Spots on a hot tin roof
Then harder and harder
Till you can’t hear anyone speaking
And you don’t have to
Because everyone is grinning
And the gutters overflow
And the water runs in rivulets
Through the red dirt
Turning it to mud
Shuttering the paddocks from view
And all the time
Of rain on the roof
It will be here soon
27 thoughts on “It will be here soon”
That’s a great poem – Very emotive. We love how you added a video of the poem below. That’s really cool.
Yeah I’m really enjoying the process Mike and Katy – so much so that If everyone said stop don’t do that or sucks I would be like – nope got to do it 😂
I remember moments like this when I was younger. That waiting for the much needed reprieve.
It’s all over here Sarah – we had a little bit of a windy stormy fall the other night but it was gone so quickly and the water evaporated – it was nice recalling a really good drenching – maybe we need to align ourselves with water instead of drought 🐋🐳🐬
I think I either hit enter or my app crashed. Let’s try try this again. I’ve always had an affinity for water in any form. So I’m definitely on board with this. 😊
Love the beach – love the rivers – nothing like swimming in natural bodies of water
What a beautifully express and thought provoking piece!!
Very well written. The physicality of rain is evident.
Your words take me back…blistering summers in the South. And playing in the rain with my siblings.
Lovely – glad you liked it 😊
Very nice Kate. This poetry could only be fashioned by someone who lives in drought country.
Thanks Len – yes it’s certainly more drought then not I think
Lovely. I can relate! We live in a wildfire prone area, and spend our summers praying for rain.
Yes you would be able to relate – the fires along the coast in Australia are terrible at the moment
That’s awful. I know how miserable that can be. I did a blog called Seasons of Change that talks about it.
I will have to check it out
Oh, how we took water for granted! Beautiful 🙂
Thanks Rosaliene 😊
There’s nothing like the sound of drought-breaking rain on a tin roof. 🙂
Beautiful isn’t it 😊
‘All that breathing out, with nothing coming in, except flies. and dust, and whirlwinds..’
So beautifully sketched out Kate, with each new line building towards the oceanic release.
I was there, with you, awaiting the wonder.
(Btw, I’m finding difficulties in subscribing …..your site has rejected both my e-mail addresses. It doesn’t matter..I can keep looking in 😊)
Oh thanks Kevin – I will check out what is going on – WordPress can be a bit pedantic at times and guess what? (I shall now tell you so we don’t go back and forth) we had a storm here this afternoon 40 points and potential for further storms tomorrow so …it was coming – now for the follow up cross fingers